


Simply Bananas

by Haro



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haro/pseuds/Haro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A romantic evening for the Doctor and Rose goes awry when the Doctor's quirkiness gets the best of him. "Upon coming in and seeing the least sexy way in the universe in which she could imagine the Doctor, the mood had been undeniably, irrevocably, destroyed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simply Bananas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abarero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abarero/gifts).



Rose yanked out the tie that she’d held her hair back with, her blonde locks falling loose and soft to her shoulders. She pulled on a silky pink camisole, all lace and flowiness where it flared it at her waistline. One of the spaghetti straps slipped off her shoulder, and she pushed it back up before slipping into a pair of satiny pink briefs.    
  
Stepping over to the floor length mirror on the other side of the room, Rose surveyed her appearance. Her feet were bare, and the makeup she’d put on that morning had long since faded for the most part. She grabbed a tube of light lipstick from the dresser and put some on, then ran a brush through her hair. Pleased, she gave her reflection in the mirror a coy smile.    
  
“Happy anniversary, Doctor.”   
  
Even just saying it made her want to laugh, both in giddiness and in recognition of just how strange the situation really was. It had been two months exactly since Rose Marion Tyler, heiress of Pete Tyler’s estate, and Doctor James McCrimmon, a seemingly friendly coworker who, like Rose herself, appeared to have come quite literally out of nowhere, began dating (or that’s how it appeared to the general public, at least). In reality for Rose and the Doctor, it had been an arrival in Norway, a bittersweet goodbye, and a new beginning. She smiled ruefully in remembrance and then let out a deep sigh. “Mum, Dad, and Tony gone for a weekend trip. It’s just you and me Doctor…”    
  
She’d contemplated candlelight, music, the usual fixings for a romantic evening alone, but it had all seemed ill-fitting for her and the Doctor. A bit of flirty lingerie would be quite enough Rose had decided. She certainly did not expect anything special from him, nor did she exactly want it. Rose could see it already. She’d walk in the bedroom, and he’d be sitting on the edge of the bed waiting in a favorite pair of boxers. His socks might even still be on. There was also a good chance he’d be wearing brainy-specs and reading a book. She’d sit down next to him, the bed bouncing under her weight, and the two would share kisses and laughs and chatter before pulling back the covers and doing exactly what she’d come in for. When they were done perhaps they’d hop downstairs and make midnight snacks together. That would be a perfect enough evening for her.    
  
Rose slipped on a knee-length satin robe and walked out of the room, down the hallway toward where the Doctor was waiting for her.    
  
\---------------------------------------- \---------------------------------------- \----------------   
  
He wasn’t sitting on the edge of the bed, nor was he wearing boxers or holding a book. The Doctor lounged in the center of the bed on his side, his head resting on his hand. If Rose could have dubbed this pose a name, she would have called it the manwhore pose, but she suspected Jack Harkness might already have a copyright on that. She had no doubt the Doctor had not  _purposely_  posed his body that way in wait for her. Knowing him he just found it a comfortable position. He probably had no idea how ridiculous, ergo, how  _cheesy_ , he looked either. But his unintentional failed attempt at seduction would have just been funny if it weren’t for what he was wearing.    
  
She had no problem with flannel pyjamas. She had a few pairs herself. They were rather comfortable and some of them were even printed like these were. But there was a line of ridiculousness that she wouldn’t cross, and the Doctor’s pyjamas quite well crossed them. They were light blue, which was fine enough, but they were also covered in rather jolly looking bananas. Bananas danced and played and smiled all over his shirt and pants, and worse, speech bubbles beside every few bananas or so read 'EAT ME.'   
  
Continuing her assessment of his apparel, her eyes wandered to his feet. She’d have much preferred socks, but instead he was wearing a ridiculous pair of matching banana slippers. The bright yellow slippers ended in a green ‘stem’ a few centimeters past where she knew his toes ended, and in addition to that, they were also, like the pyjamas, very happy to see her. A smiling face decorated the top of each slipper.    
  
“Oh my god…” Rose finally managed.    
  
“Rose, Rose!” The Doctor bounced up, as if nothing were unusual at all. “You look lovely. Happy two month, three hour, and seventeen minute anniversary by the way.”   
  
She was torn between laughing so hard her sides would hurt and banging her head against the nearest wall. Upon coming in and seeing the least sexy way in the universe in which she could imagine the Doctor, the mood had been undeniably, irrevocably, destroyed.    
  
“What… are you wearing?”   
  
“Oh these?” the Doctor replied, conversationally. “Jackie dropped me off at the store the other day. Told me that with winter coming up, I ought to get some warmer pyjamas. Strange how your mum frets over me like that. You’d almost think she likes me. Anyway, I’m still not quite sure how this part human body handles very cold weather yet, but as I rather like pyjamas, I went ahead with her suggestion.”    
  
Rose whipped around toward the door. “MUM! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” she yelled angrily before recalling that her mother had left for the weekend.    
  
“Something wrong, Rose?” He looked at her, genuinely concerned.    
  
“It’s not that. It’s just… y’know, banana pyjamas, slippers? What happened to boxers and a book, yeah?” Rose leaned on the doorframe. “I mean I got all dolled up and… well… I dunno.”    
  
The Doctor stood up and walked over to join her by the door. “Rose… I didn’t think…” But his words were interrupted by the  _squeak_  of his own slippers. Indeed, with every step he took the banana slippers squeaked.   
  
“An’ here I thought it couldn’t get any sillier…” she sighed, exasperated.    
  
“Oi, sorry Rose!” he grumbled. “We’ve never had any fronts when we’re doing this, so I didn’t think that was going to change now.”   
  
“Wait Doctor I--- “   
  
“I’m going to go downstairs and get some cookies and milk, do you want some?” He was behaving as if nothing had happened, going right to the midnight snack that usually happened  _after_  they had done the deed.    
  
“Uh yeah, sure…” Rose replied lamely.    
  
The Doctor nodded and left the room, walking slowly, deliberately, downcast, his slippers squeaking with each step.    
  
“Honestly. Cookies and milk, banana pyjamas. Didn’ know I was babysitting Tony tonight,” Rose mumbled under her breath, but she felt herself smiling despite the frustration. “I swear to god even the squeaks of his slippers sound sad.” She toyed with the tie on her robe for a few moments before shaking her head and following him. “He’s just like a puppy.”   
  
\---------------------------------------- \---------------------------------------- \----------------   
  
Down in the kitchen, the Doctor was savoring every morsel of his mint oreos. He was the type to take apart the cookie, lick the middle, put it back together, and dip it in milk, which had been completely unsurprising to Rose the first time she’d seen it. So when she slipped into the kitchen and saw him doing exactly that, she smiled at the predictability of it all.   
  
“Thought you’d bring me up some cookies and milk, yeah?” Rose queried, sitting down on a stool beside where he stood in front of the island in the middle of the kitchen.   
  
“Figured you’d come down in a few minutes, so didn’t bother.”   
  
She laughed lightly. “Guess we can both be pretty predictable.” Rose snatched an oreo and dipped it in the Doctor’s glass of milk. He sat down on the stool next to her, his slippers squeaking as he did so. “Look sorry, okay? I just… god this is so silly. I’m gettin’ all apologetic over your banana pyjamas that say ‘eat me.’ You’ve any idea how perverted that sounds, a guy wearing bananas that say ‘eat me?’”    
  
The Doctor’s face broke into a grin. “Didn’t really think about it, no. I just bought the only banana pyjamas they had. Was debating between bananas and little stop watches. I like time, but in the end I decided on bananas.”   
  
Rose poked him in the shoulder. “Would’ve preferred the stop watches.”    
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He munched another cookie. Rose also grabbed a new oreo.    
  
“But I’m sorry, like I said. You’re right. We shouldn’t put on fronts. I mean… it’s the Doctor I love, all your craziness and bananas and technobabble and absentmindedness and love of all things sonic.”   
  
“Oi! I’m not absentminded,” he argued dipping another cookie into the glass of milk.   
  
Rose snorted. “Doctor. Glass is empty now. No more milk.”   
  
His eyes widened. “Oh. Right.” The Doctor poured himself a new glass from the half-carton that sat on a nearby counter. He was about to take the glass back over to the island, when Rose grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back onto the stool.    
  
“So if you want to wear banana pyjamas when we’re supposed to be having a romantic evening, I s’ppose I can’t fault you for that. ‘Cuz you know…” She leaned forward, pressing herself against him. He nearly fell of the stool, before placing his arm on the island to hold himself in place. Rose whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his face. “I’ve gotta admit that I’ve never seen someone make banana pyjamas look near as good as you do.”    
  
She used her free hand to loose the ribbon of the robe, and it dropped to the floor in a pool of satin. Lithely, she propped herself onto the island and leaned down, taking his chin and catching his lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, and she squeezed her hands between the two of them and began unbuttoning his pyjama top, helping him to slide it off his shoulders when she finished. It fell on the floor next to her robe.    
  
They broke to breathe. “Are we going to shag in your parents’ kitchen?” The Doctor cocked an eyebrow and surveyed Rose, who was slipping off her camisole.   
  
She pressed herself against him, slipping her hands down to his waist band and toying with it. “Don’t see why not, do you?”   
  
He grinned. “No, can’t think of any particular reason why we shouldn’t.” His slippers squeaked as he shifted, helping her to remove his pyjama pants.   
  
“Doctor.” She stopped.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Take off those slippers,” Rose demanded with a laugh.    
  
“Oh. OH  _right_ . Sorry about that.” He tossed off the slippers and the rest of his pyjamas followed, then he moved to join her on top of the kitchen island, whipping his lanky legs up next to her. A pair of pink satin underwear and a pair of pin-striped boxers soon joined the pile of clothing, and neither of them noticed when the Doctor accidentally kicked the package of oreo cookies to the floor.


End file.
